2.
The swan lay tangled in a thin wire net--an iron net, Sennet discovered when she tried to magic it away. It was a crude sort of trap, and not one she had found before the in the forest, with thin barbs attached to the rusty loops to keep its prey from escaping.
The swan had tried to escape. White feathers littered the ground around the twisted net, and one of its wings hung limp--broken, Sennet thought with a surge of fury against the person responsible for the net.
That it was iron posed problems only in freeing the swan, and she tried her best not to prolong its agony as she snipped through the wires and coaxed the barbs from its skin. Once it was free, she stabilized its condition with a bit of her own power, sending soothing thoughts along with healing magic as she bundled it into her jacket to carry it home.
To carry her home. While the mother was unconscious, her child's awareness sparkled through Sennet's connection, far too inquisitive to be only a swan.
What had she rescued, then? And on the tail end of that thought, would the Council need to know?
They would need to know about the traps, she decided as she stepped through a nearby portal and arrived back at her house. But not the swan. Not yet, at least.
Sennet did not hesitate to lay the swan in a bed; she treated all her patients with equal dignity. And her new patient had escaped other injury except for her broken wing--something that would have to heal on its own with a little help along the way.
She had just turned away to fashion a splint and grab a roll of bandages when she sensed something had changed behind her. And when she turned back to her patient, half-expecting to see that the swan had died despite her efforts, the swan was not a swan anymore.
A pale, regal woman lay on the bed, her broken arm bruised and bloody, her modern clothes torn to shreds. Her hair was as white as the moon, long and lovely, but tangled with dirt and leaves. What skin wasn't scratched held bruises and dirt from her ordeal, and her stomach protruded in a state of late pregnancy.
As soon as Sennet touched her broken arm, the woman opened her eyes. They were grey, wide and dazed; a wild animal's eyes.
"Hush, you're safe," Sennet said. "I'm a Healer. You will not be harmed here."
The woman gasped in a breath, her unwounded hand scrabbling across the sheets. Her other hand clutched Sennet's arm in a desperate, unbreakable grip.
"You are safe," Sennet said again, backing her words with power.
The woman licked her lips. "M-My daughter?"
Sennet hadn't stopped to check the sex of the baby, but she did now. The baby was asleep, but fine, showing no ill effects from her mother's ordeal.
"She is fine. Asleep, but fine. She--ah--said hello before, while you were unconscious."
"What--what happened?" The woman's brow furrowed as she struggled to remember.
"As far as I can tell, you were caught in a trap," Sennet said. "I'm not sure how long you had been there when I found you, but you're safe now." Sennet squeezed her hand. "My name is Sennet, and you're in my house."
"I--" The woman licked her lips. "My name is Emle." A tear trickled down her cheek. "Thank you--"
"Rest," Sennet said. "You broke your arm in the fall, and my power will only heal so far. Go to sleep. You're safe."
Emle's eyes slipped shut without a protest, leaving Sennet free to finish her work.
Next Update: April 13th
House St. Clair Home
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